


Impulse

by ST6NBONES



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clawing, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:27:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ST6NBONES/pseuds/ST6NBONES
Summary: This is a thing I did in 20 minutes.





	Impulse

They stared off into the distance, hands hanging idly by their sides, body still as stone, noise nearby. People speaking amongst themselves, an enthusiastic conversation that they had droned out, caught in thoughts that weren’t there. Hands still by their sides, their mind threw them another thought. A thought of walking away, of going to a room with no noise, no people, just themselves and their mind. To look in a mirror. Any reflective surface would work. To take their stiff idle hands, stiff from no use, to touch, to study, their face again. Move it around. Feel the gummy skin of their cheeks as they pinch and squeeze them, notice how their lips curled in the reflection while playing with them, touch the thin skin on their nose, observe their eyes as they scan their face and raise their hands up to the lids they were locked behind, feel the soft flesh underneath, place their fingers at the crease of where the flesh of the lower eyelids met the cheek bones, like a slot where they can curve their digits inside and pull down, peeling away the skin and meat that hid the bones beneath in a slow fashion so they can look at the teeth that gnashed and the gums that held them and the tongue that lashed out at their cracked lips that their jaws wouldn’t stop attacking, the metallic taste they had, unlike the raggedy cheeks that were exposed on the underside of the peeled away flesh that now hung from either side of their face, chewed through by the same jaws that eat at their lips, their fingers touching the strings of flesh that had been left dangling from those cheeks when their molars couldn’t tear them away from their home who then turn to the lips as they tore at the flesh that had started to become stiff from constant gnawing so they could taste the crimson life that burst from them once before, trying to dig even deeper as the long tongue tried to stay out of the way, remembering the lashings it had been given by the teeth that nurtured it, even the chipped one that had become a fifth shear for their goal, tearing away more and more until they tired out or couldn’t grab more and turned to the hands, eating and peeling away at the nails that grew on them, then the skin that grew next to and underneath until red flowed or until they couldn’t reach anymore, turning the nails into the short ridged claws that searched their cold arms and face and felt at their eyes and the noise of murmurs the enthusiasm has left the noise has left and the noise of loud had crept in as they pondered why people were making them as they stared out into the dark distance as their hands lowered themselves to their sides as warmth touched the sides of their face and why were they being so loud? Their hands had begun to stiffen again, they keep making so much noise, they turn to the noise, not enough noise anymore, a distressed silence, what was wrong with people they would never know and then they finally focused on something, a whisper compared to the silence, a single whimper of “why” and then they take notice of the buzzing feeling around their eyes and move their stiff joints to feel at them and move a bit of stringy wet clumps of twisted hair that had fallen below and stuck to their cheeks and hear more unfocused whimpers. Why indeed. As their now limber hands move past their brow and fall back down, now leadened, they can’t help but drown out the unease and murmurs until it is just static noise falling upon the deafened ears of stone.


End file.
